The New Hermione
by HPluvah
Summary: Hermione's been a bookworm her entire life, but is taken by surprise by her long-surpressed lustful urges. When she can't take it any longer, will she get carried away? HGDM, smut! Now Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**--The New Hermione—**

Hermione woke with heaving gasps, clutching her bed sheets. She was spread out, taking up all the room on her double bed and her heart was pounding.

She quickly glanced outside of her bed's curtains to see if she'd woken any of her roommates with her heavy breathing and, no doubt, moans, but there wasn't any movement from the other beds.

She sighed in relief and curled herself under the blankets once again. This was the third time this week that she'd woken in such a manner, and she knew the cause. Who would guess that Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age, Hogwarts' Know-It-All, meek and prissy muggleborn was having wet dreams about--

_Bathilda Bagshot authored A History of Magic._

She tried, like the good little witch she was, to block out the pounding feeling in her gut. After all, she wasn't going to get any satisfaction from it tonight, so what was the point? She closed her eyes and thought of the authors of every book she'd read that month, hoping to have an uneventful sleep the rest of the night.

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But she didn't. She woke as agitated and unsettled as she had been the night before. And apparently, she was late, too. She quickly dressed in her now empty room, barely glancing in the mirror at her messy hair, and went out the door to the Great Hall for breakfast.

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"So what d'you reckon is keeping Hermione?" probed Ron.

"Beats me." Harry was furiously scribbling something for the Transfiguration essay he'd forgotten about the night before.

Ron continued stuffing toast into his mouth for a few moments, then choked on it.

"Woah!"

Hermione strode into the Great Hall, her hair a glorious mess streaming behind her, her shirt badly misbuttoned, and her skirt wonderfully high in back. The eyes of most males in the room and many females looked at her conspicuious entrance, gawking at the Brains of the Golden Trio.

"Hey guys!" Hermione peppily greeted as she approached the Gryffindor table. She saw their lingering stares. "What's going on?"

The rest of the hall went back to their breakfast, but Harry and Ron didn't exactly know how to tell her….

"Well, Hermione," Harry began, "You look quite a bit…"

_Like sex, _thought Ron.

"messy."

She took a mirror out of her pocket and gasped, "Oh, my _hair!_"

But Ron didn't see a problem with it. Hermione grabbed a piece of toast and ran to the nearest girls' bathroom.

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She was walking frantically outside of the hall, when who passed but—

"Damn, Granger, what happened to you?"

"I woke up late, Ferret. Leave me alone." She tried to pass her steady blush off as frustration. She did NOT need him to know that he was the one she—

_Goblin silver repels dirt, imbibing only that which strengthens it._

"Well maybe you should do it more often." He sauntered away. "Mudblood!"

She continued walking, hiding the small smile that crept onto her lips at a very inappropriate time….

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By lunch time, she was tidy enough to have that frazzled-hyper-intense-prissy-school-girl vibe back, so all was right with the world. She was scribbling on the latest potions essay whilst her two best friends somehow managed to eat the entire contents of the Hogwarts kitchen. This was a normal picture for them, everyone was doing what they were best at, but Hermione's mind was wandering, as it often did when no one noticed.

Sure she was writing an impeccable essay, but her thoughts were flowing to other, less academic things.

_The Elixir to Induce Euphoria has the occasional side effects of excessive singing and nose tweaking, although this can be counter-balanced by adding the appropriate amount of peppermint…_

Those are the words her quill wrote. But her mind was on a different kind of euphoria, one that no one knew she wanted, and as her quill kept scribbling on the tired parchment, her gaze rose to the Slytherin table.

His blond head nodded at something one of them said, and he raised his glass in his hand; apparently they were toasting something. Her eyes traced his fingers, masculine and capable. At least, they were capable if they could do what she dreamed about last--

"HERMIONE!" Ron shouted at her. Apparently this wasn't the first time.

"What is it Ron? You know how I get when I'm doing homework!"

"I was just saying, Harry and I are heading to Transfiguration. Are you coming?"

"Yeah, let me just finish up and I'll meet you there."

_Yeah, let me __have a few more sexual fantasies and I'll meet you there._

"Right then, bye." And they left. So she wrote. And she thought about how no one knew what she craved the most wasn't high marks. No one knew… And with a firm resolve she finished the sentence she was writing and began to pack her things up.

No one knew yet. But it was about time they did.

**_---------------------wooscenechangehowfunletsseewhathappensnexty'all!--------------------------------------_**

Right. So, everyone would know that Hermione Granger was a sex-crazed nymphomaniac with a lust for pleasure almost insatiable as her lust for knowledge.

The only problem was, how?

That night in bed, she laid awake, thinking about every possible scenario of her "getting some." Most of her fantasies consisted of a hot man taking her roughly on a desk during a standardized test. But they weren't having their N.E.W.T.s until the end of the year, and she definitely wasn't waiting that long…

She thought briefly of spells to enchant a man, but that would hardly be sexy in her eyes. Besides, some people forgot everything they did when under a love spell, so that kind of defied the point of her "coming out" of the sexually repressed closet.

Halfway asleep now, she was beginning to feel very wise and logical. Her problem in the past was that she was too shy to approach anyone… the obvious solution was to change this.

She smiled dreamily and fell asleep, looking forward to the day ahead.

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She skipped Arithmancy. Never in her life before had she ever, for half of a second, given skipping a class any thought at all. Classes were meant to be attended. So she attended them. But she wasn't in Arithmancy today, because she had more important things to learn.

She waited in the empty classroom for them to approach. She had stolen the Marauder's Map from Harry and was using it now to track their position. Draco Malfoy (his name strung silkily across her mind now that she wasn't denying it) approached her location with Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. They were barely fifty feet away. She held her breath and peeked out of the window of the door.

They approached, and she held her wand in preparation.

The three of them walked past her in the hall, and with a deft flick of her wand Draco's bag split nearly in two.

"Damn, I'm going to be late. I'll meet you two in class."

She smiled with an almost Slytherin sneakiness. Her predatory urge was at a high, and with a lunge she darted out of the door and dragged Draco in.

_Oh my god, what am I doing, I should be thinking about—charms, yes, charms. __Name common hexes: Bat-Bogey Hex, Bedazzling Hex, Canary Transfiguration Hex—_

But she didn't finish, because she had Draco against a wall and she suddenly wasn't thinking with her mind anymore.

His back was facing her, and she had her head in the end of his surprisingly soft blond hair. Her hand crept up his spine. She felt him tense up and try to turn his head.

"What the hell is going on? Who are you, what---"

But suddenly he was quiet as she pressed herself up against him, her breasts pushing into his back, her hips pressing into his ass.

"What are you doing?"

She smiled and brought her mouth to his neck, right below his ear. "Surely you of all people know what I'm doing."

She started kissing his neck then, softly biting, pressing him further into—

_Holy shit, Hurling Hex, Knee-Reversing Hex, Stinging Hex, Twitchy Ears Hex—_

He felt her sudden hesitation and reversed their positions. He was about to lean in toward her when he realized what was happening.

"Jesus—Granger?! Since when do you take strangers roughly in empty classrooms?"

Hesitation was still in the back of her eyes, and he grabbed her shoulders and brought his mouth to _her_ neck.

"Couldn't resist me, huh? I knew it was only a matter of time…"

But that's when New Hermione returned. She moved her head quickly and found his lips for a passionate, biting kiss. Her hands untucked his school shirt and roamed over the sensuous geography of his abdomen.

"Please, Malfoy. What fun is an _empty_ classroom?"

He stopped returning her kiss for a moment and looked at her, his eyes betraying his shock. Surely she wasn't saying she wanted to do it in a classroom that _wasn't_ empty… was she?

She let out the sexiest laugh/smirk he'd ever heard and said tantalizingly, "I have something better in mind. Meet me here at ten o'clock." She drew away from him, and her hand lightly passed over the front of his pants. "Jesus, Malfoy, is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

If possible, the shock on his face deepened as she pressed past him and out of the classroom.

He was frozen for a moment, as if he'd been stupefied, which he was, spell or no spell. He quickly swung his head out the doorframe, his now loose shirt following him, and he watched as her hips slowly moved from side to side as she walked away from him.

Looking down at himself, he realized he couldn't walk the halls in such a state. He plopped desperately into one of the chairs in the classroom and tried to clear his head.

_Shit. Okay, the elemental laws of transfiguration… are… sexy….and… holy fuck… um, __Hagrid__, Potter, Weasel, who else do I hate…. _

**_A/N:_**

**_Hey, so, this is my first fic-- I'd greatly appreciate any reviews! Also, what do y'all think should happen next? Thanks for reading!_**

**_--HPluvah_**


	2. Chapter 2

**-----The New Hermione-----**

**Chapter 2**

He was running late.

Hermione smiled to herself. She had expected this, but she also had no doubt that he would come.

Lowering herself into one of the desks in the abandoned classroom, she got out the Marauder's Map and her Transfiguration essay. She needed to keep an eye on him, but she was still Hermione Granger—just because she was about to be sexually liberated didn't mean she could fall behind on her school work.

And so she sat, in a classroom, doing homework. It was the same way she had spent the rest of her life; it was what she was comfortable with. And yet, as she was referencing "Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration" in her essay, her mind wandered. She glanced down at her school skirt and realized just what a little girl she was. She was seventeen, a young woman, but until recently only a small part of her consciousness knew of her R-rated fantasies.

Until this year, she'd never given a thought to sex or lust. She was consumed with an insatiable curiosity, a lust for knowledge that usurped her more carnal cravings. And then she had to be friends with The-Boy-Who's-Still-Alive, which took up any time she had leftover once she got back from the library.

But this year--!

It first happened this summer. She was normal by day, reading, hanging out at the Burrow, but at night she was glad that she had her own bedroom. The first dream happened a few weeks before Hogwarts. She woke in a light sweat, her core oddly slick, whispering, "_Sirius_…" Well, that pretty much freaked her out completely.

The next morning was awkward, to say the least.

_Hermione walked downstairs late to breakfast to see that Mrs. Weasley had made pancakes. And apparently, everyone had eaten except her, Fred, and Sirius._

_Attempting to hide the blush she knew was gathering on her pale cheeks, Hermione let her hair gather around her as she looked into her plate of pancakes and took a tentative bite._

_"Still hot? I can warm it up, if you need." asked Sirius._

_She looked up abruptly, almost choking on her pancake, as Fred hurriedly handed her a goblet of pumpkin juice. She struggled to swallow, no doubt making many attractive __gurgling noises. Finally, her windpipe was cleared. Her face, however, was growing redder by the minute._

_"You okay?" queried Sirius, "I guess yours were too hot?"_

He's talking about the pancakes. Don't freak out_, Hermione reasoned. _

_But Fred was eyeing her suspiciously, a small smile on his mouth._

_"Yeah, I'm __fine,__ I think I'll just go get ready now. I'm not that hungry. I'll just let the, um, pancakes, cool down." Hermione quickly got up and began to walk up the stairs. Her stomach emitted a very loud, very low growl, proclaiming her hunger to the world._

_She quickened up the stairs as Fred began to laugh._

After that it only got worse. Each night, it seemed, she was fantasizing about another inappropriate person—and at a house like the Weasleys', overflowing with males, it was hard to keep sane.

Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Percy, Ron, Mr. Weasley, Harry, Sirius, Lupin, all of them haunted her dreams. The dreams with the Weasleys were worst; often she'd be being ravished by a mysterious man with red hair whose face continually changed from one Weasley male to the next. Just seeing their hair the next day was enough to send her into a fit of embarrassment the next day.

But as fall neared, she managed to control her daytime embarrassment. At least, she didn't think anyone _saw_ her embarrassment. Half the time, she was in a never-ending circle of confusion over these new thoughts. It was as if this side of her had been repressed her entire life, and suddenly her body woke up, realized it was a sexually mature, rather sexy body, and sent the hormones a-raging.

…And then she went to Hogwarts.

It was seventh year, her last year, and she should've been thrilled with all projects, papers, and the upcoming N.E.W.T.s to study for. But she found herself surrounded by hundreds of men, who haunted her dreams with little regard for her sanity. Her classmates, teachers, no one was safe from the fiery workings of her semi-conscious mind. She could generally deal with the students, but the teacher fantasies threw her for a loop. She hadn't looked Snape in the eye all year because she knew how good of a legilimens he was. And if he knew what she thought at the beginning of that year….

And Professor Flitwick! Oh, he wasn't much to look at, but that _name!_ It was as if it was created to torment her. Every time she heard it, Hermione felt an odd tickle deep in her gut. Her thoughts were wandering during one of his classes, and as Hermione doodled on her spare piece of parchment, she wrote something down. It was Ron who saw it first, much to her chagrin:

_**Lalala**__**… 2**__** essays due Tuesday… Ugh… **__**Flitwick**__**… I'd like to flick HIS wick…**_

That was rather hard to explain.

But somehow, Hermione managed to talk herself out of it. It was nearly Christmas time, and no one had guessed that she was a closet pervert. She felt like she could burst with all of the tension stored up in her annoying body.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her neck as she looked at her now complete Transfiguration essay. A swift movement on the Marauder's Map caught her eye—So, he was coming at last. Draco Malfoy had been her almost exclusive dream-lover since they were partnered together in herbology a month ago. She completely loathed him, of course, but that almost made him sexier in her eyes.

The dot that represented him on the map snuck up from the dungeons, darting around corners as he tried not to be detected. Hermione smirked as he stopped at the corner before the classroom she was in at that very moment. He took a step forward, and stopped.

_Well __well__well__, Mr. __Malfoy's__ a bit shy… Or else he's ashamed to be attracted to a naughty __mudblood__ like me…_

And that thought only served to make her smile broader. She loved a challenge.

She went to sit on the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom, crossing her legs seductively, letting a healthy length of thigh show over her white knee-highs.

The door slowly opened and quickly closed, and he was in the room with her.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy."

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**A/N**

**If you love me, please review. If not, I'll assume you don't love me, my self-esteem will plummet, and I'll spend all of my time huddled in a dark corner bemoaning my existence. Soon, I'll be too depressed to eat or drink, let alone write, and as my body ****withers away, I will be plagued by the thought of all of you that don't love me. I will soon die, and my spirit will be freed from my body, and ****I will ****thus**** be**** unable to type—any hope you have for a continued story will be dashed along with the hope I once had for my future life. I know, it is a sad portrait that I paint, but there is something YOU can do to stop this ghastly**** future before it even happens****—REVIEW!**

**Muchos**** Gracias. **

**--****HPluvah**


	3. Chapter 3

**So, hey.**** I totally forgot to put a disclaimer on the first two chapters! So, here it is:**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, or any of their fictional friends, enemies, and relatives, despite my odd obsession of writing about them.**

**The New Hermione**

**Chapter 3**

**Previously…**

_**She went to sit on the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom, crossing her legs seductively, letting a healthy length of thigh show over her white knee-highs.**_

_**The door slowly opened and quickly closed, and he was in the room with her.**_

_**"Hello, Mr. Malfoy."**_

For a moment, he just stared at her, and she tried not to mock his seldom-seen shock. He recovered quickly, however.

"Granger," he murmured huskily.

He took a few steps slowly closer to her. She remained perched on the desk, her precarious position subtly tempting him.

"So, what kind of things did you have planned that couldn't be done this afternoon?"

"Have a seat, Malfoy." Hermione's gaze was playful but demanding. Draco, ever the rule-breaker, paused for a moment, pondering ignoring her command simply because no one gives orders to Draco Malfoy.

He sat.

He was low in a desk in the front row and she was higher on the desk at the head of the classroom.

She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, and Draco thanked whatever god existed that his low seat gave him the perfect view up Hermione's skirt.

"We are here, Malfoy, for a lesson."

Draco pulled his eyes away from her legs.

"A lesson? In what?"

Her eyes appraised him, and she jumped down to slowly walk around his desk.

"Obedience."

Draco froze. This was not what he came here for. All he wanted was a quick, perhaps fetish-y fuck with the mudblood, and he'd be on his way. He briefly wondered if her earlier attack on him was simply a ploy to get him here for some kind of payback for teasing her all these years. Things were simply not going according to plan…

That was, until he felt her hot little lips on the side of his neck, whispering and kissing him with her words.

"Don't worry, my little Slytherin, you'll have your fun. If you pay attention and be a good little boy."

His eyes were lust-filled saucers as they looked at her and she could hear the words he was thinking as if he were screaming them in her ear—

_Oh, yes, teacher, I'll be the best little boy there is!_

She grinned. "We're off to a good start, then. Let's see how good you can be."

She went back to the front of the classroom and straightened her robes. She cleared her throat and began to speak, the authority in her voice rivaling McGonagall's.

"Come here, Malfoy. Stand before me."

He did as instructed and awaited further instructions.

Hermione circled around him again, this time scrutinizing his body.

"This won't do—no, this won't do at all. Take off your shirt, Mr. Malfoy."

He raised his eyebrows, but didn't speak. He revealed his toned torso, and her eyes quickly appraised his form. She couldn't hide the small smirk that was blossoming on her mouth.

"Like what you see, Granger?"

Her eyes momentarily narrowed, then quickly went back to normal. She approached him seductively, her hips undulating until they touched his own. She raised her mouth to his and kissed him slowly, and so deeply that he didn't even notice her lithe hands removing his belt.

He did notice, however, when she abruptly drew away and his senses were assaulted by the loudest _CRACK_ he'd ever heard. He jumped, and his eyes shifted frantically from their earlier state of arousal to one of pure fear.

His belt, he saw, was in her hand, and she'd used it as a whip on the solid surface of the desk they stood next to.

He took in the astonishing site of Hermione Granger, Bookworm, sinuously and confidently holding his belt as a whip, ready to use it as a tool of pain.

Before his mind could even process the situation, she was behind him, whispering on his neck again—

"If you speak out of turn again, Mr. Malfoy, I'll be forced to use more than noise to scare you. Obedience is a very serious matter, and one with which you seem to have severe problems."

She moved to his front again, in perfect view of his mouth, which was slackened in shock.

She grinned. "Good boy."

She leaned forward and kissed a spot high on his chest. As she leant softly on his firm frame, his arms were slack by his sides. "You always were a quick learner. Let's move on, shall we?"

She drew away from him again, this time, going back to the desk and the discarded belt. She plucked her wand from deep in her cleavage, ignoring Draco's continued gawking.

She muttered under her breath, and the belt became something smaller, transfigured into some kind of—

_Dog collar.__ Holy fuck, she'__s going to put me in a dog colla__r? No way in HELL!_

Draco scoffed loudly and moved to put his shirt back on. "You're insane, Granger! In what world would I _ever_, possibly, deign to consider letting _you_ lead _me_ around in some kind of sick dog collar!?"

He continued muttering things about insanity and sadism under his breath as he put his clothes back on, grabbed his things, and proceeded to the door.

Hermione simply stood as she had been, the dog collar in one hand and an unfathomable expression on her face. Her head was slightly cocked to one side, her eyes were large, and her knees were drawn together but her feet remained splayed apart, toes pointing in. She was the picture of seductive innocence.

Draco hastily proceeded to the door, grasped the handle, and pulled.

Nothing happened.

He tried again.

He took out his wand and did all the unlocking charms he knew.

Nada.

"Locking spells are a bitch, huh?" queried a soft voice from behind him.

He turned to find Hermione exactly as she had been, as if it wasn't she who had spoken.

Draco backed against the door.

"What's wrong with you?" His mind worked furiously to figure what could be making her act this way.

She approached slowly, and, as ever, seductively. Her expression was one of extreme innocence—how could a creature like the one before him even know about sex, let alone the sick thing she had tried to get him to do?

And then she was there, up against him, her wand in one hand and the dog collar in the other.

"Draco, whatever do you mean?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him as her wand slowly slid up his shirt.

It was cool against his skin, and her lips were warm against his lips. He forgot about her alleged earlier insanity and filled his arms with her, as their tongues met each other in a calm struggle for dominance.

Before Draco recognized what had happened, his shirt was off again, and her wand was still in place on his stomach. It trailed up his abdomen, across his collarbone, and wound along the side of his neck.

Hermione pulled away from the kiss but stayed close to him. "You were so mean to me a few moments ago," she stated simply.

"Uh… yeah." Draco refused to take back what he said, because she was proving to be more eccentric every minute that passed with her.

"That doesn't sound much like an apology. Perhaps we should try to fix that, hm?"

Just as Draco was about to ask who "we" was, to see if she had multiple personalities or perhaps belonged to a club of closet fetishists, he felt the most searing, pointed pain coming from the tip of her wand.

She drug her wand down, across his shoulders, and the fire that spread from it was like the breath of hell. He was paralyzed between Hermione and the door, her wand slowly torturing him, her eyes never leaving his. Before Draco knew what was happening, the pain was gone, as were his pants.

Hermione smirked.

"I doubt you'll want to leave without your pants, Malfoy."

"Uh…"was all he could manage to say, eloquently expressing the most coherent thought he possessed.

Her hand, cool and long-fingered hand stroked his newly naked form slowly. She began where her wand left off, near the top of his abdomen. The thin red lines she drew with pain were lustfully licked and caressed by Hermione. Her ministrations continued downward, until she ran her hand along the inside of his thigh.

Malfoy let out a slow moan as her hand moved higher, and Hermione drew quickly away from him.

"Hey—no—What are you doing?!"

Hermione smirked at Malfoy's frustration.

"Undress me." She commanded.

Draco didn't pause after this command. With one fluid motion her robes circled around her head and landed on the floor. Draco paused, looking to see if he should continue.

"You are learning so fast, Malfoy. I have to admit I was worried… But I guess you want to know what's next. I want you to unbutton my shirt, and each time you undo a button, kiss the new skin you've revealed."

He seemed a little disappointed at the lack scandal involved in this latest order, but he would never turn down a chance to touch the ever-cloistered Miss Granger.

Acting on instinct, he picked Hermione up at the waist and sat her on the nearest desk. The moment this was done he looked at her to see if that was okay, at which Hermione remarked, "Don't worry, I'm of a forgiving nature." She leaned in and kissed him.

Draco's hands moved to the top button. It was gone, and his lips touched the surprisingly warm flesh of her sternum. Another button revealed the top of her cleavage. The next button let him kiss her passionately with his head buried between her breasts. After reluctantly leaving this one, he kissed the hidden flesh underneath her chest. Slowly this continued, and Draco took his time working his way down her stomach. Finally, he reached the hem of the shirt and slid it slowly off her shoulders.

Hermione had been silent during all of this, but she couldn't hide the way his sensuous ministrations made the muscles of her stomach contract in anticipation. When she finally did speak, it was vaguely hoarse.

"The skirt—the zipper is on the left side. Make me happy, Malfoy."

Draco was disappointed that his first thought, on hearing this, was how lucky he was to be allowed some creative license. He quickly decided to give her exactly what she asked for.

And with one swift motion, the skirt was unzipped, and there was hardly a moment before his tongue replaced where the fabric had lain. He quickly licked down the side of her hip that had just been revealed before slowly letting the fabric of the skirt crumple to the floor.

Hermione was more laying than sitting, now, clad only in her underwear, waiting for his next move.

He was still.

She smiled, "Continue."

And when he did, her stomach dropped, and she somehow felt as if she swallowed a lead weight and extraordinary amounts of champagne. He was kissing low on her pelvis, all the way around the top of her underwear, leaving Hermione with the most wonderful and agonizing tickling feeling that felt strong enough to kill.

And just when she was about to demand he tear the bloody knickers off, and take her then, his hands moved upward and she froze.

He traced the front of her bra, and just as she was about to stop him and say, "Quit the bloody tracing routine and fuck me!" She realized his head was on the skin that was freed from her bra just a moment earlier, and all she was able to articulate was:

"Oooh…"

The deep moan only encouraged Draco, who swiftly began massaging her breasts and alternately licking and biting as if he was in her mind, taking the orders she didn't know to give.

Only when his fingers found her wet folds did she realize that somehow, in the midst of everything else, he had managed to free her of her knickers.

She was exceedingly grateful.

And the fingers that she had only before imagined to do wonderful things actually _were_ doing those things to her now, better than any of her lusty dreams had predicted.

He stroked, prodded, pushed, flicked, and used every other touch imaginable. Hermione was in ecstasy for a moment—then…

"Go faster!"

And he obeyed. It felt like she was going through the stratosphere and was too high for the earth to hold her any longer.

Surprising him, she grasped his throbbing cock. She gave it a long stroke and looked him dead in the eye—

"Take me. Now."

And before she had time to register the heady look in his eyes, he was on top of her, thrusting, better and harder and faster than any of her dreams had prepared her for. Her head hung off the edge of the table, thrown back in abandon as her body finally, wonderfully found the satisfaction for which it had been pining for so long.

The contracting of her first orgasm with a partner was doubled when he joined her a moment later. Their movements slowed, and they somehow both managed to find their way back down to earth. They laid in silence for a few moments, and very slowly regained consciousness.

"Holy shit, Granger… Holy shit."

"Such an eloquent reaction, Malfoy. Although I don't think I gave you permission to speak again." She replied with a more playful smirk.

He raised his eyebrows and they both got up, in search of their strewn clothes.

"So… were you always like this? I mean, do you not expect me to tell anyone or something?" Malfoy finally got to ask his questions.

"To be honest, I didn't think about sex at all until this summer. I don't know what happened, but it was like my body went on a sex-crazed revolt and wouldn't rest until it was through. My mind wouldn't concentrate on books or lessons, it would only create its own knowledge. I had the worst wet dreams…"

Draco laughed, "I can't imagine you having sex dreams—although, I guess, after this, I'll probably be able to. But, honestly, Granger, why me? And again, are you trying to keep it secret? Because I don't think our history would give me much credit in that area."

"I don't know why you. I guess because you were always forbidden, my enemy, and apparently, a Sex God. And I don't expect you to keep this secret. After all, I'm the one that dominated _you_, remember?"

Hermione was delighted to see such a dumbfounded expression on such a text-book Slytherin. It was gone quickly, but the memory would always remain.

"So go on, tell who you like. But make sure you tell what really happened, how you obeyed my every command, how you were a slave to my lust. Otherwise, Malfoy, the vast number of curses I've learned as a shrouded bookworm might just come back to bite you in the arse."

And with that Hermione grabbed her books, straighted her robes to look like the good schoolgirl she was, and reached up to plant a passionate kiss on Malfoy's marvelously shocked lips.

He responded to the kiss eventually, but did not move his body without her command.

"Good boy."

And with that, Hermione Granger, Bookworm, Head Girl, Gryffindor, exited the classroom, leaving it empty but for a dazed Slytherin.

"Oh, and Malfoy—" she darted her head back into the doorframe, "50 points to Slytherin for remarkably wonderful obedience."

Draco fell into the nearest chair. He couldn't believe how the events had played out… Glancing to the floor, he saw one pair of lacy green undies, which Miss Prim and Proper apparently decided to go without this evening. Without allowing himself to think any more than absolutely necessary, Malfoy grabbed the piece of lingerie and stuffed it into his pocket before heading back to his dorm.

Yes, it was definitely a good decision to come…

**A/N:**

**Howdy! So, yes, I realize that everyone here is acting mind-numbingly OOC, but, I promise you, many things will be revealed in the next and (most likely) final chapter! So, make me happy and review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**This is it! The final chapter. I hope you like it-- be sure to review! And in case you hit your head or something and forgot, I still do not own any of the characters or HP universe.**

**The New Hermione**

_**Chapter 4**_

Hermione walked down the hall the following morning, yet again late for breakfast. This time, however, it was planned. While her new exhibitionist self wanted to sprint to the great hall to see how much people knew about her and Draco's midnight liaison, Old Hermione kept rearing her self-conscious head, worrying about her reputation and how much time she'll lose from studying to have to explain the change that's come over her.

And so she was late.

After her tryst with Draco the night before, Hermione returned to her dorm and fell into a blissful sleep, thanks to a very successful mission accomplished. She felt proud and secure, as if her purpose were fulfilled…

And then she woke up the following morning just as dawn was breaking, her mind slapping her awake with the unthinkable newsflash of her nighttime endeavors.

"What the Hell?!" Hermione scrambled out of bed, as if standing would suddenly make all her problems clearer.

It didn't; instead, Pavarti stirred in her bed, faintly mumbling, "didinnslipwivhim, live me alooooooonuuuuh."

Not knowing at all what to do, Hermione stood there, having a slightly quieter mental breakdown. She'd just shagged Draco Malfoy.

She shagged Draco Malfoy. What's more, she _seduced_ Draco Malfoy. She seduced and shagged Draco Malfoy with quasi-BDSM! She shagged and seduced Draco with quasi-BDSM on a teacher's desk in an abandoned—wait, it was an _abandoned_ classroom, wasn't it? Hermione's brain was in too dense of a lust-cloud to care about the location of their affair, but looking back she was fairly certain that it was the old Charms classroom; She'd seduced and shagged Draco Malfoy with quasi-BDSM on FLITWICK's desk in a classroom they were _very_ lucky was empty! Dear God!

She could see the series of events leading up to this, her growing sex-drive, her insistent fantasies, the burning passion which had abruptly been put-out, but it all felt like the biggest shock that could possibly be felt. She was numb; Hermione stared blankly ahead for a few minutes, her brain having been evenly fried by circular logic and disbelief.

Not knowing what else to do, she went to take a shower.

Hermione was ready for school before any of her roommates woke up, but she didn't want to go down to the great hall early. She sat in the common room, putting the finishing touches on a few essays that were due in a few weeks' time.

The boys passed by her on their way to breakfast, all too eager to believe her industriousness was due to pure scholarly dedication, and not at all to escapism from her sex-crazed philanderings. She tried to focus on her Arithmancy work, but each time there was an end to an academic thought, a sneaky voice filled her head…

_**I wonder what people are saying…**_

_That I'm a slut._

_**Or that you're a Sex Goddess. That you're the most brilliant, sexy woman that has ever existed and the whole of the male population (and surely, some of the female population) wants you in every way, mind, body, and soul.**_

_Psh. No way. And I'm glad. I've got friends, who know who I am, and know--_

_**Absolutely nothing about anything you've been up to lately. Or were you considering filling them in?**_

_NO! Although…_

_**Ah, so you admit they don't know you! And you admit that you rather wanted Draco to out you, if you recall.**_

_Well—yes, but that was the old Hermione! YOU! I'm not you! _

"I'm ME, dammit!" Some second years that were milling around by the exit quickly left after their Head Girl made this rather mad exclamation. Hermione herself wondered about her sanity then, and about the degree of the duplicity of her actions.

Sighing, she realized that if she wanted to eat at all, she had to head to the great hall now.

She tried very hard not to question what gave her such a voracious appetite.

**838383883838388383838383838388383838383838**

With the brightest smile anyone had ever seen on Draco Malfoy, said Slytherin looked around the Great Hall expectantly. She was late, but he knew she had to come down at some point. He hadn't told anyone yet, save for a few subtle innuendos to Blaise, and was preparing for the most dramatic display the Great Hall had ever seen.

Yes, he thought to himself, this little plan of his had gone brilliantly. For three years he'd wondered what it would be like to have Hermione Granger; she was the only thing unattainable to him, the only thing forbidden. He couldn't just go up and proposition her; it wouldn't be very Slytherin, or Malfoy, to do so.

No; he thought of something better.

Late sixth year, Draco was researching Dark Potions in a book from the Restricted Section for a Potions essay. As he copied some notes on the particularly nasty Inside-Out Burning Potion, he happened to see a few pages later, the Lust Potion_ inebreamor_.

Said potion began to work directly after it was given, manifesting in increasingly stronger lust toward every member of whatever sex the subject was attracted to, until he or she came into physical contact with the maker of the potion. After that, the subject lusted only after the maker with a nearly unbearable intensity, until their union was consummated.

Draco saw the description of this potion and thought of only one thing: Granger.

After the rather complex brewing, it was almost easy to slip the potion into the unsuspecting Gryffindor's drink at the End of Year Feast. She had no idea what was about to happen to her… Draco decided to rename the potion _Slytherin Seduction_.

Quite perfect, in his mind.

He knew it would take a week or two for her to become aware of the effects, and he knew they would magnify. He was quite entertained for the first few weeks of the school year by her ever blushing face. Every slight innuendo or male glance had her twitching in her seat, a lovely, red, frustrated victory for Draco.

His only regret was how long it took for him to be plausibly near her. His over-famous hate of any member of Gryffindor and especially the Golden Trio was so deeply ingrained in all of the Hogwarts students and staff that no student was stupid enough to cross paths when they were near, and no teacher was naïve enough to make them work together. Finally, after what seemed an eternity to Draco, they were partnered in Herbology, and his hand subtly brushed hers as they passed ingredients.

After that, all he had to do was wait. He was rather curious as to how long it would take her burning lust to overtake her Gryffindor pride, and was quite surprised that it took only about 4 days. She was far braver—or far hornier—than he'd thought.

But he wasn't complaining. She'd even said she wanted him to out her, that she was tired of people thinking she was some cloistered little bookworm.

_Well, the potion's more than worn off by now_, he thought wryly as he glanced again around the Great Hall, _and she did say I could tell, even if she was under the influence…_

Yes, watching her embarrassment as he told the whole school would be quite the pay off. He even got some sex out of the bargain…

And finally he saw her. Hermione opened the door tentatively and walked through resolutely, as if squaring herself to her fate. She looked around the room, and her eyes met his—and he was quite unprepared for what he saw there.

**KRHKRHKRHKRHKRHKRHKRHKRHKRHKRHKRHKRHKRH**

Hermione's hand slowly opened the door—

_Holy shit holy crap holy holy damn damn what the hell--_

But her mental freak-out didn't stop her movements; the door kept opening, and she decided that if she was going to do this, she was going to do it like a Gryffindor.

She lifted her head and stared resolutely into the Great Hall. None of the faces she scanned looked particularly scandalized or interested by her entrance. She decided to check the Slytherin table, to see if he'd told any of his green minions yet.

Nothing. Not one face in the room looked at all different—he hadn't told yet. She looked towards the end of the table and saw—

Him. Only it wasn't the old him, whom she'd loathed, it was the New Him, the one she'd fantasized about, the one she'd shagged on Flitwick's desk only a few hours previously.

And she felt the familiar dropping of her stomach, the heartbeat that filled her ears and clouded her judgement. Her unforeseen desire made her feet move and a smirk grace her mouth.

She walked—well, strutted, really—to the Slytherin table. A few eyes were watching this unusual path, but no one was scandalized yet. Hermione walked with the sway in her hips that she knew he was watching. Her eyes never left his, and her smile broadened as she saw him noticeably gulp. She plopped down next to him on the bench.

"Excuse me, mudblood filth sits over there," Pansy Parkinson politely directed.

"What the hell are you doing here, Granger?!" Crabbe sputtered.

"Something in your eye, Granger? We're not wearing red or parading around with scars on our heads and tears in our eyes over here," Blaise illuminated.

"Indeed you aren't," Hermione assented, "which is why I am here. I thought it best to tell you all, first."

"Tell us what," whined Pansy.

Draco, who had been silent up to this point, found his voice. "Granger, are you sure you want to do this?" The potion was supposed to stop working after they'd had sex….

"Quite sure. Everyone, your attention! Draco and I made mad, passionate love in the old charms classroom last night, on top of Flitwick's desk. And Draco didn't seduce me either, I lured him there and made him do some fairly kinky things."

The entire hall was quiet. All of Slytherin table had heard this, and some of the staff and other houses had, too. Those that hadn't were being quickly filled in by hissing whispers.

Then several Slytherins laughed.

"Please, in what world would he ever deign to have a little mudblood like yourself?"

"Why on earth would she make _that_ up?"

"Figures she'd lust after him, but to make up a story like that? She's mad!"

"Draco, what's going on?"

The voices surrounded them, but Draco and Hermione were staring only at each other. Hermione's expression was one of serenity and desire, while Draco's countenance was a mask of confusion. What could be making her act this way? Could she really want this? She was the one that was supposed to be embarrassed right now! How did the tables turn like this?!

"Well, Draco, now that everyone knows, I have a question for you," Hermione's voice was one of the softer tones in the now cacophonous Great Hall. "I find that I quite liked last night, and was wondering if you'd like to repeat the experience? Not that it has to be the same, you know, I'm quite open to new things. What do you think?"

This, Draco was not expecting. And somehow, he wasn't terribly sad that Hermione wasn't in tears from embarrassment right now. The Gryffindor table was sputtering and the Slytherin table was bickering, but the other two houses seemed quite interested in this unexpected development between Hogwarts' most notorious rivals.

And Draco found it all rather fascinating.

And that was the only reason he could think of for why he pulled Hermione towards him and engaged her in an engrossing kiss. Slytherin table was quiet, and as they pulled apart, both Hermione and Draco had large grins on their faces.

"Well," Draco stood, drawing Hermione up with him. "If you'll excuse us, I believe we have many things to… discuss."

"Yes," Hermione assented, "_Quite_ a few things."

And as they nearly skipped towards the doors, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw erupted into cheers for the new couple, while Slytherins hollered and Gryffindors argued.

The happy couple, meanwhile, were snogging quite vigorously against a wall in the hallway, quite oblivious to everything.

_You know_, thought Hermione as she was snug between Draco and the wall, _I think I might like to stay as this New Hermione after all._

_**fin.**_


End file.
